


As Passion Simmers

by magalix3



Series: Soccer!AU [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, Enemies to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Minor Jackson Wang/Choi Youngjae, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, bffs markson, side Yugbam, very mild mention of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magalix3/pseuds/magalix3
Summary: Mark dreams of crushing and destroying Jinyoung.





	As Passion Simmers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mayora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayora/gifts).



> i’ve never played sports and i don’t even watch sports (send help.) i did some googling to try and figure out how soccer leagues work so i hope that this is at least a little believable. if you know how sports actually works, please let me know if something is too far-fetched. also, in no way am i affiliated with either of these schools, i just picked 2 random towns in cali and made up these universities and team colors. thanks!

At the confusing age of twelve, Mark wastes his birthday wish on wishing that Jinyoung’s face would get smashed in by the soccer ball, by Mark’s own doing. 

Dorinne claps, completely oblivious to her son’s wishes, and hopes that his dream comes true. She assumes the wish revolves around Leslie, who’s a pretty girl that stares at Mark with heart-eyes every time he even so much as blinks. But Mrs. Tuan is wrong. The only thing her son dreams of is crushing the best player on his opposing soccer team. Mark gets this competitive streak from his father, and for years, it simmers.

You see, Mark’s One True Passion is soccer. He keeps his grades up for rewards of new cleats, or shin guards, or the new Under Armour tech. He excels at it; has a natural talent that’s elevated by passion, commitment and perseverance. No one’s better than him, and his name rings out through the region. It doesn’t matter what field position he plays, Mark is the star player.

That title gets threatened in middle school, when a new kid is introduced into one of their rival schools; Jinyoung. He proves himself as a force to be reckoned with. Jackson, who played goalie in elementary school and who’s also Mark’s best friend, says that he sees the devil every time Jinyoung goes in for a kick. Mark sees it on the field, and tells Jackson it’s not his fault when Jinyoung scores one on him. Mark blames himself for not being fast enough to stop Jinyoung and his quick feet.

Being so young, Mark doesn’t view Jinyoung’s presence in a positive way. He could be a healthy competitor, but instead, Mark’s young immaturity turns it into something vicious. It’s his life goal to crush Jinyoung with the ball; to make him eat dirt and taste failure. The first time he ever gets red-carded is when he’s fourteen, when he and Jinyoung collide, knocking the air from their lungs, throwing the whole field upside down. Something automatic in Mark had made him dive for the ball, successfully whipping Jinyoung’s legs in the air, leaving the two of them wheezing and coughing up grass.

Jinyoung, who seems to feel threatened every time he faces Mark, gets up on wobbly legs without even offering a hand up. He scoffs and tells Mark, “Watch it, princess.”

And at fourteen, being called a princess is pretty offensive. Mark wades in his hatred.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

It’s that time of year again - the conferences - and Jackson is transfering all of his best friend duties onto Youngjae, their college team’s goalie. If anyone knows Mark best, it’s Jackson, and the poor guy has dealt with this for too long. The team captain spots for Jackson at the bench press while Youngjae willingly takes on the role of Mark’s work-out partner for the days leading up to the games.

It’s junior year and Keynan already knows the deal since this is the third year he’s lead the team. He’s watching Mark out of the corner of his eye, something unreadable settling through the press of his eyebrows.. “You think he’ll be okay this year?”

Jackson exhales sharply, focusing more on the weights in his hands than on Mark. “Probably not.”

“I can’t have the ref blow the whistle on us because he’s trying to take on number 23, again.”

“No promises, man.”

“Then talk some sense into him.” Keynan takes the bar from his teammate with steady hands, dropping it into its holding. Jackson sits up and stares at his team captain, sweat dripping down the side of his face, looking incredulous. 

“Listen, it’s been like this for, like, ever. He’s not gonna change.”

Keynan motions for them to switch so he can lie against the bed of the machine with Jackson now as his spotter. “Well, he’s gonna have to. Coach wants us to get along.” He tries the weight of the bar, Jackson’s hands hovering, but then drops it back down. “Shit, dude, this isn’t wrestling. Take off the end weights.” 

While sliding off the two end ten-pound weights, Jackson tries to read the press of the captain’s eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘wants us to get along’? Sounds like bad news.”

“ _Meaning_ -” He tries the weights again, “That every semester, when we go on those retreats, we’re gonna start going with other schools. It’s gonna be a whole buncha teams going. Something about cost cutting, and team building. That sorta shit.”

Jackson pieces the puzzle together, throwing his head back with a groan. “Jinyoung’s school’s gonna be there.”

“ _And_.” He says pointedly. “I’mma need someone to replace me when I’m gone. This is my last semester, man.”

The mood shifts completely, and Jackson almost forgets to spot for his Captain. “Wait… you think Mark can replace you?”

Keynan nods, pushing his curly hair from his face. “Yeah. So he can’t fuck this up.”

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

Coach Harvey gives her loudest speech ever, waving her clipboard around, getting the team amped up for the game. It’s the last conference game, and the team has beaten themselves up over practices, sacrificed themselves, devoted their all - and the fact they made it this far is incredible all on it’s own. She wants them to win, but wants the boys to also know that they’ll come this far again, through their own efforts.

“- so _no_ stupid shit out there.” She finishes as they come in for a group circle, pointedly staring at player #9, Mark. He just rolls his eyes, but she frowns even more. “I _mean_ it.”

It’s a hot day, the team’s already sweating by the time they get midfield, but there’s a new rush of adrenaline fueled by cheering fans. The stand is full; people are crowded. This is the most anticipated game of the season: Santa Monica versus Davis. These are the two teams with a warring winning streak, and any match with the two is sure to sell out. College soccer fans are pretty amped, screaming like true groupies from the stands.

On their way to the center field, Youngjae spots his family alongside the Tuan’s and Wang’s. He grabs for both his teammates to point out their families. Mark’s sister waves a huge sign with his name on it, Youngjae’s sister has a blow-horn, and Jackson nearly stumbles mid-step, “Holy shit, my brother’s here.” 

The man lives in Australia, so Youngjae links his elbow with Jackson’s, smiling widely. “Then let’s make his trip out here worth it.”

Jackson’s eyes soften when he looks at Youngjae, “Yeah, let’s play a good game - well, I mean - you always play a good game.” 

Mark bumps shoulders with him when they part near mid-field, Youngjae going off to his post. “Dude, if only he knew how whipped you are.”

Jackson blushes, “Shut the fuck up, keep your head in the game.”

Mark laughs at that, a full, energetic laugh. The high he gets from being on the grass, in cleats, even in the glaring sun, has never worn off. It’s only seemed to get better as he went from high school to college soccer. “ _Me_? You’re the one drooling over our goalie.”

The crowd stands for the anthem, screams for player introduction, and Mark feels a competitive rush burn through his body when he sees Jinyoung, player #23, is already staring at him. They play the same aggressive position on opposite sides of center field, and while they should be looking at the ball, they’re glaring at each other.

Mark notes that Jinyoung looks like he’s filled out even more since last season - steroids, probably, all the footballers are doing it and it’s only a matter of time before it trickles through the sports, and he seems more fiery than their last game. His chest fills out his shirt, the top two buttons of his collared jersey are undone, and his bags are longer, flipped to the side with gel, but sweeping so they dust against his cheekbones. His gaze flickers to the midfielders and referee, who holds the ball with one hand and whistle between his thin lips, and then Jinyoung looks back at Mark. His lips twist, smirking, and then he winks with a swipe of his tongue over his plump lips. Mark freezes.

The ball drops, the referee steps back, and Mark gasps when the whistle blows. He unroots from his spot on the field, doing his very best to replace the imagery of Jinyoung’s sun-kissed cheekbones and pretty pink lips with the soccer ball.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

Halftime starts with a tie, 1:1, and Coach Harvey yanks all the boys in with encouraging words and pats on their sweaty backs. Mark drops next to his teammate Kenneth with a solid high-five and shares a blue Powerade with him. Jackson drops at Mark’s feet and yanks the towel from around his neck to pass it to Mark, who passes it to Youngjae, who passes it to another teammate. Coach Harvey makes a face at them. There are plenty of towels to go around, there’s no need to share.

“We have to win this.” Mark says, dropping his head into his hands. 

“Don’t think we didn’t see you almost body-slam Jinyoung.” Youngjae frowns, downing his yellow Gatorade. 

“Forreal, man, you need to chill. Coach is gonna have your balls if you get carded.” Jackson inputs, and Youngjae nods in agreement, adding, “Yeah, like last game.”

“And the game before that.” Kenneth glares at his teammate. “What’s your beef with him?”

“They’ve been enemies since middle school.” Jackson supplies with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been playing his team for years.”

There isn’t a clear view of the opposing team from here, but with the spirit of rage and competitiveness and years and years of familiarity gassing him up, Mark knows exactly who Jinyoung is. He’s sitting on the grass with a new player, someone Mark had seen for the first time last game. There are two new players, two tall guys, probably freshman, one with wildly blue hair and one with a strong jawline. They’re good.

“I’m playing on the wrong team.” Youngjae says out of nowhere. Mark rolls his eyes at the way Jackson whips around. “All the Koreans are on that team. Im is the Captain, and there’s a Kim and two Park’s.”

“And a, uh, Boo-something.” Kenneth mumbles.

“- Not Korean.” Youngjae says at the same time Mark says, “Well, I’m sure Jacks would fight to keep you here.” 

Jackson slams the heel of his hand into Mark’s foot - who does a valiant job at keeping a straight face.

“Oh, you wouldn’t fight for me?!” Youngjae laughs, but Mark assures him he would with a smile pulled out of his ass. He’s going to kill Jackson. He needs his foot. It’s not his fault Jackson has a long-running tradition of not dealing with his feelings. He’s usually so abrasive and willing to put himself out there, until it comes to romance. Mark feels the need to help out a bit, not wanting to see his best friend heartbroken over another relationship he never had the courage to start up. 

Mark decides to save it for later though. The only thing important right now is the game.

And beating Jinyoung.

Shortly after they gather for a huddle, scream excitedly at each other, and then they’re back on the field. Mark’s foot isn’t hurting - thank God - and he assumes his position on the side with Jinyoung. Jinyoung cocks an eyebrow at him, head tilted to keep his hair from his eyes since he’s sweated off most of the gel, and Mark’s gaze rakes down the column of his neck. Then he shifts back to the midfielders.

“Are you gonna actually get the ball from me this time?” Jinyoung taunts, his voice breathy, light, nothing as dark as the look that captures Mark when he spins around. He’s talking about the first half of the game, the same moment Mark’s teammates had just scolded him for. All his efforts to get the ball had proven worthless when he tripped, and Jinyoung kept going to score a goal. The goal that tied the game. 

Right against his side, right where they collided, still hurts. Mark can feel a bruise forming on his hip already. He hopes Jinyoung has one, too.

“Watch your fuckin’ feet.” Mark snaps back, his blood boiling up. This time he’s ready, swallowing down the fire burning through his chest. He’s going to make up for his blunder, even if he has to take Jinyoung out. He can see the red card already.

The chance for redemption comes within only a few minutes, when Keynan passes the ball to Kenneth, but the trajectory is off and the ball rolls right to Jinyoung instead. Mark’s on him in a second, eyes trained down, feet quick, and he snatches the ball with his heel. Jinyoung fumbles for it, reaches out towards Mark without actual intent to touch, but he’s swift on his own feet; light as a feather. He steals the ball back just as two of them get too close, too focused on where the ball is instead of their bodies, and they collide. Worse this time than before. The referee’s whistle rips through the crowd of screaming fans.

Coach Harvey yells from the sidelines. Mark’s going to hear about this later, even though this crash hadn’t been premeditated. 

The two players land on the turf, world spinning as Mark clenches his calf, trying in inhale, and can hear Jinyoung doing the same at his side. The pain is intense, shooting up his leg and into his hip. The whole game stops for the two lying side by side, grunting and gasping for air as they try to regain their bearings.

Coach Harvey and Coach Peterson from Davis run over as the referee checks in on the players. Mark insists he’s fine and he can hear Jinyoung doing the same, the pain dull enough now that he’s comfortable to stand. He can put weight on his leg. He’s fine. 

“Say you’re sorry.” Coach Harvey instructs with a wave of her cap. Mark blinks at her, offended. This isn’t kindergarten. But she motions, again and again until Mark finally gives in.

Jinyoung is there - _right_ there, the closest he’s ever been in an unchaotic moment. They’ve crashed into each other countless times, have passed each other for end-game high-fives, and have stood on the same side of the field, but this - this is the first time Mark’s looking at Jinyoung. He can see the lines of sweat, the creases in his lips, the sweep of his eyelashes. Mark takes a moment to feel the sun and watch the way the afternoon gleams against Jinyoung’s forehead. Sweaty men are gross, Mark will be the first one to say it, he can sometimes smell himself, but from here he can smell the light mix of deodorant and BO and the dirt and it’s -

-gross. It’s gross. That’s what it is.

Mark extends his hand and Jinyoung’s reaction time is a beat or two too slow. He straightens his shoulders and breathes in, hard, as if he had forgotten to a moment ago. They shake hands, and Mark hopes that no one notices the goosebumps crawl up his arm in response to the way Jinyoung’s fingers slide against his palm as they pull away.

“My bad.” He says in a breath. He’d just gotten the air back in his lungs but he’s feeling breathless again. Not as dizzy, though. It must be the heat.

Jinyoung smiles tightly, nodding. “It’s alright.”

Mark catches Jinyoung’s lingering gaze once more before they turn back to the game. He pulls away after a step or two when Coach Harvey speaks to him.

“Mark? Shit. Are you suffering a concussion?”

He stares at her, mouth open. “Huh? What?”

“Did you hit your head on the way down? Are you not hearing me?” She waves a hand in front of his face. Worry replaces aggravation, and the distant crowd chatter comes back to him, filling his ears and the sky as Coach continues to press, “Do you need a nurse?”

“No, no,” Mark shakes her off. Waves and smiles to the fans. They jump up, screaming excitedly when they see he’s fine. Their chants fuel his spirit. “I’m fine, I can play.”

Coach Harvey gives him one last, long look, but decidedly steps away. Mark turns back to the field and immediately spots Jackson standing with his arms open, posture lopsided, wordlessly asking _what the fuck_ from across the field. Mark doesn’t really know what is meant by that, so he turns back to Jinyoung who’s just outside the line gearing up for a free-kick. His thick thighs flex, long lines of muscle drawn in Jinyoung’s calves, disappearing under stretched, gold compression material before hiding behind black shorts.

He lunges at the ball with a powerful kick, and Mark wastes a moment to lose sight of the ball, lost in the way Jinyoung’s shorts pull around his ass and thigh as his body twists from the kick. 

Mark turns, scanning the field for the soccer ball.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

After the game, after the teams have already briefly showered off and gathered their things, the home team says good-bye to the away team. Mark doesn’t want to rub it too much in Jinyoung’s face that Santa Monica won by two goals, but he’s anticipating seeing Jinyoung.

Jinyoung looks smug though, catches Mark’s hand in a firm grip and says, “We won the past two games against you, so I guess this outcome is only fair.”

And Mark’s blood is boiling again.

As Jinyoung boards the coach bus, Mark tries not to stare at the way his thighs and ass fill out his shorts. He’s been looking too much.

“Steroids.” He mumbles to himself, kinda like a lunatic.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

Beating Jinyoung’s team means that Davis College is out for the remaining season. There’s only two games left, and Mark plays a great game each, gets them the final, winning goal for the conference, and scans the crowd of players. Keynan and Jackson hoist Mark up on their shoulders, the crowd screams, and Mark vaguely wishes Jinyoung had been there. It’d have been a better game.

But he knows his path with Jinyoung will cross again. It has for ten years now, and they're only juniors in college. Even if they don't know each other outside of games, Mark knows Jinyoung well enough that he's certain Jinyoung won't be quitting soccer before graduating. They have time to meet on the field again.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

He (mostly) forgets Jinyoung during the rest of the semester. The team makes it far, ends up flying out to Louisiana for the final round before the Cup, but don't make it farther than that. Mark and Jackson avoid mingling at an after-game party, get drunk and leave early mostly to avoid girls. The team doesn’t know they’re gay, and Jackson needs solace in his one-sided pining over Youngjae. He drunkenly cries out in some strangers yard in a state in the Southeast because he’d seen said love interest flirting with a girl. Mark feels for him. Pats him on the back. And wonders what Jinyoung’s doing. He Googles ‘Davis Boys’ Soccer Team’ to see how they’re fairing. He zooms in on a picture of Jinyoung on the team’s Instagram, an old one catching him mid-air scoring a last-second goal. Mark doesn’t remember the details, all the words on his cell phone screen blurring together.

“Maybe we should just hook up.” Jackson mumbles like it’s a bad idea. Which it is. “I… like... childhood friends that both ended up liking dick? Issa _true_ love story.”

Mark stares at Jinyoung’s face until the screen goes black. “Dude, too loud. Someone’s gonna hear.”

“But… I… like…” Jackson furrows his brow, slumps against his best friend and clears his throat like he’s holding back vomit. “I want the team to know. Should tell ‘em. Dun’ want their sweaty dicks anyway - we’ve seen it all.”

Mark shakes his head, unlocks his phone and Jinyoung’s face is still there. But he’s drunk. Doesn’t overthink it. Jackson hadn’t been totally serious when he suggested hooking up so they forget about it. They forget about all of it through the rest of the semester. They sweat it out through practices and the boys are too sore and too exhausted to care about seeking out relationships; much less even care to find one. With finals looming, they bury themselves in books and research papers. The light at the end of the tunnel comes from the sun and the sky: Freedom and the Winter Session Retreat.

 

The Winter Session retreat is a week in the campgrounds where the team can play and escape. It’s something that Coach put into play many years ago as a way for the boys to relax after the season and semester. Mark gratefully leaves behind his laptop, kicks all his past semester books under the bed, and is ready way before Jackson pulls into the driveway to pick him up. But of course Jackson has to come inside and chat up Mark’s family, fitting himself into the kitchen where he’s always belonged. And Youngjae is always welcome, accepting a packed lunch from Mrs. Tuan.

On their way out, Jackson gives Mark’s family all a kiss on the cheek, and Mark awkwardly says he loves them from the doorway.

Mark’s BMW doesn’t really have the leg room in the back for a long drive, so they take his mom’s Audi. Mark’s low-key a prissy rich boy that doesn’t like it because it’s _standard_ , so Jackson drives. Youngjae lounges comfortably in the backseat, sharing his bag of fruit. He brought everything with him; pineapples, bananas, grapes, oranges, and the car smells like pina colada. Jackson nearly sobs when he catches sight of Youngjae nearly shoving a whole banana in his mouth, and Mark admits he thinks it was a little unnecessary, but kinda impressive.

The drive up takes nearly two easy hours with the _three amigos_ in the car. At least, it’s always been an easy ride, with the windows down, listening to a playlist they’d all worked together on and just overall, good company. It’s Coach Harvey’s text that derails all of that. The team has a group chat and she texts it asking for an ETA from all the Santa Monica boys. Mark provides an update in the midst of all the teammates checking in, and she responds with a message saying the other team’s already arrived.

Mark twists the phone screen for Jackson to peek even though he’s driving, while Youngjae’s in the backseat scrolling through the chat, vocalizing what Mark’s wondering, “What other team? Isn’t it just us that’s going?”

Jackson grips the wheel with both hands, and Mark watches the nervous tic carefully. Youngjae asks again, but replies in the chat, and Mark just glares. 

“Davis is gonna be there.”

Mark slams the radio, silencing the music so abruptly that the speakers still buzz for seconds after, even through the whirring of the wind whipping through open windows. 

“Davis?”

“Oh, damn.” Youngjae mumbles, eyes falling on Mark’s twisted expression.

“We’re sharing the campgrounds with _Davis_?”

“Yeah, it’s a budget thing? Or some shit. Schools split the cost, or -”

“Okay, but you knew?”

Jackson weaves to another lane, the engine vibrating as he hits the accelerator, the wind still lashing against their faces and beating against their ears. He keeps his eyes trained ahead while Mark glares, shoulders slouched over the center console like he’s trying to box the driver in. Whatever Youngjae says is drowned out by the passing of an eighteen-wheeler.

Jackson shrugs, switches lanes again, “I mean, what’s it matter? Don’t you have this like, massive crush on Jinyoung, anyway?”

Youngjae rolls up the back windows so he can hear this better. “You _what_?”

Mark would strangle Jackson if he weren’t driving. “Pull over so I can punch you in the face.”

Of course it’s an idle threat, but it still provides a cringing reaction from Jackson. “Wait, are you denying it? You got drunk and searched photos of him.” Mark just continues to stare at him, threatening. “I was drunk but I wasn’t that drunk where I wouldn’t remember, asshole.”

And then the one in the backseat says something totally unhelpful. “It makes sense? You’ve been rivals your whole life but then, one day, all that passionate hatred turns into passionate love…?”

“That’s -” Mark doesn’t know how else to say _stupid_. “Ridiculous. Absurd.” His brain struggles for more, “Preposterous.”

“Good SAT vocab.” Jackson laughs at the word _preposterous_. “Maybe your relationship is a slow burn enemies-to-lovers.”

Mark asks, “What the fuck is that?” the same time Youngjae says, “As in like, fanfiction?”

So Jackson has to explain it, and Mark’s feeling all sorts of weird, allowing the topic to shift from his own love life to the fantasy ones Jackson reads. And Youngjae, too, apparently. “What kind of fanfiction do you read?”

Jackson shrugs, trying to play it off cool that he just found another similarity between him and his big crush. “Stucky?”

“They’re so _gay_.” Youngjae bolts forward in his seat, eyes glistening excitedly, hands reaching to tap Jackson on the shoulder, and Jackson’s skin prickles at the contact, “Do you read canon or AU?” and Mark loses them to a conversation beyond his understanding.

At least they’re bonding and not picking on him anymore.

Leaving him alone to think of Jinyoung.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

Surprise! Guess who’s rooming together.

Coach Harvey says it’s because “I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of you guys battling it out on the field. Whatever pathetic macho stand-off is going on between you two ends this week.”

Mark, feeling like he just lost a game, feeling weird because five minutes ago Jackson and Youngjae had made bets on if MarkJin (he’s disowning his friends for giving him and his enemy a couple name) were going to end up sleeping in the same bed, feels a little raw, and mumbles, “I don’t even know why I hate him.”

Coach Harvey makes a small noise, unsure of what to do with this information. She’s never seen Mark looking like he’s about to have a breakdown. The boys all know they can confide in her, but tend to not show the more vulnerable sides of themselves. Mark is no exception, trying to set his expression, staring at the rocks and dirt and grass.

“It’s not a stand-off, it’s _sexual tension_.” Jackson teases from a few steps away. Mark hadn’t realized his two friends were within earshot, and flips them off with a purposeful swing of his duffel bag. Jackson tumbles and Mark leaves him sitting in the dirt, Youngjae laughing too hard to do anything. Coach Harvey quietly slinks away.

 

It’s four to a room, two from Santa Monica, two from Davis. 

Jackson is paired with their team captain and two boys from Davis, one named Bambam and one named Drake. Bambam is probably the most interesting person here; his hair is a vibrant red when it was blue not too long ago, and he’s dressed nicely, sticking out like a black sheep in the middle of a bunch of guys wearing sweatpants and Nike tank tops. Youngjae is paired with Ernesto from their team, and Captain Im and a small guy named Angel. Coach Harvey had split up the trio on purpose. 

Mark is with Kenneth and the two Park’s: Jinyoung and Jaehyung. They shout to each other in a foreign language and Mark’s heart sinks when he hears Jinyoung’s voice. This is going to be a lousy week.

Captain Im calls over his bunkmates. Youngjae sighs dreamily, turning to his two best friends, mumbling “Dude, Im is _hot_ ,” then something else in Korean as he jogs up to Im’s side. Jackson sucks in a sharp breath and Mark can hear the panic in it. It radiates, and Mark zeros in on it in lieu of looking at Jinyoung. He's watching.

“Dude - I didn’t know Youngjae was into men until like, an hour ago, and now I’ve got competition?” He leans over, and Mark would really feel for him if his own heart hadn’t dropped into his intestines. “Like, this Im guy _is_ hot. Fuck, dude, I’d fuck him.”

Mark glances over, watching as Youngjae introduces himself to Captain Im, hands wrung in front of him; shy. It’s impossible to hear what they’re saying, but it’s not impossible to miss the way Captain Im suddenly breaks his typical stoic demeanor. It’s minute, but his cold expression cracks with a slight, gentle smile, and he reaches out to put a hand on Youngjae’s shoulder. Jackson gives Mark’s arm a good shake. 

“Is he flirting? Oh, my God. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, he’s touching my man. They’re fuckin’ flirting. This Im fucker has made more progress in three seconds than I have in _three years_.”

Mark yanks his arm free of Jackson’s panicked grip, rubbing the red marks. “Can you just tell him how you feel? I don’t want to listen to you whine anymore.”

That makes Jackson stop. He pulls away with a stern look, eyebrow furrowed but gaze offended. Mark’s on edge, has been for the past hour, and he can feel Jinyoung’s gaze on him. He knows what Jinyoung’s gaze feels like, and that thought settles uncomfortably. Jackson keeps him distracted, but not distracted enough for his frustration to be calmed. “I’m hurting, asshole. I don’t want to fuck up our little Musketeers thing because I can’t keep it in my pants.”

Mark frowns, glaring at his friend while his emotions bubble over. “Don’t use me as a shield, that’s bullshit. You’re just too scared to go after Youngjae yourself.”

“I thought he was a super chill _straight_ dude -”

“You’ve ignored all the signs.” 

Jackson’s voice is steadily growing, “You knew?”

Youngjae’s the only one on the team that knows they’re gay. He had found out one night when they were all drunk together and just laughed and shrugged. He’s made some vague comments about dating preferences and has hit up the gay bar with them since then, even occasionally agrees with them and has his own comments and praise when the two drool over a hot guy, but he’s yet to be clear about his own sexuality. Mark insists that Youngjae isn’t straight. Jackson insists that Youngjae’s just open-minded.

“Since day one, dude. He literally told you he reads stories about dudes fucking. He has a massive crush on that… dude, from YouTube. The make-up guru with the thighs. He cried during Love, Simon. He’s never been subtle. You’ve been ignoring it.”

Jackson stops, clenching his jaw and fist. Mark stares at him, daring him, waiting for him to continue pressing buttons until he blows. But Jackson’s deflecting; “What’s got you so riled up?”

“Your pining”

“No, that’s not it. You’ve been a huge dick since you found out about Jinyoung. Why do you hate him, anyway?”

Mark waves Jackson off, ending the conversation gracelessly. There are too many people around for this right now, it’s too hot, Jinyoung’s still looking at him, and Coach Harvey is glaring, waiting, trying to asses the situation from a distance. She’s an amazing coach, supportive on and off the field, so Mark knows she means well by placing him and Jinyoung together, but there’s a long-standing history between the two soccer players that Mark doesn’t think Coach will ever understand. He’s not too sure he understands it, either. Today is the first time he’d considered the question _why do you hate him?_ There’s no true reason, not one valid enough that Mark can come up with, anyway. It’s just how things have been.

Besides, he’s not having a crisis over this. Not now. This week-long excursion has always been a relaxing getaway, so he’s not going to let Jinyoung ruin it.

The cabin is empty when he gets to it, quiet and spacious enough for his thoughts to settle in the corners. Mark ignores the way they call to him, instead trudging over the worn flooring to his bed. Jinyoung’s not here to call top bunk, so Mark throws his bag over onto the mattress, patting down the lumpy pillow and climbing up.

The bed isn’t made and the mattress creaks, the sheets are folded clean and fresh by Mark’s feet. He should cover up the musty mattress, but instead he closes his eyes and listens to the birds, listens to the creak of the door as it opens, and doesn’t pay attention to what his roommates say but the sound of them instead, as they settle into their own bunks in the single-room cabin. He really hopes it’s Kenneth that bunks underneath him, but Kenneth’s voice comes from the other side of the room, talking to Jaehyung - “No man, it’s cool, just call me Jae. It’s what all the kids call me. I’m Jae, Jaebum is JB, Jinyoung is Jin, Yugyeom is Kim because it’s less painful than hearing white people try to pronounce Yugyeom, and Bambam is just Bambam.”

“Oh, we call Youngjae, Jae, too.” Kenneth’s already making friends with the enemy. Great.

“What! No way. You gotta introduce me.”

Mark peeks, and his gaze meets with Kenneth’s. He’s making a face that conveys just how uncomfortable he is, as if he doesn’t really know what to say to Jae. It changes in a second though when he sees his teammate is awake, and Mark’s offended by the gesture made in Jinyoung’s direction. Everyone seems to want him and Jinyoung to talk, even Kenneth. They barely know each other outside of soccer and team nights where the team gets drunk and all pass out in different corners of whomever’s house they’re at. So Mark really doesn’t want to hear it from him, too.

It’s then that Jinyoung stands, head level with the top bunk. Afternoon sun pours in through the window at their side, Jinyoung’s iris’s overflowing with golden light, reflecting warmth, and stopping Mark’s heart. Jinyoung leans forward to touch his chin to Mark’s mattress. He smiles softly, the sunlight glittering against his bangs and catching his eyelashes. Mark wonders when Jinyoung outgrew his baby fat, turning into a handsome young man. 

“Do you need help?” Jinyoung speaks gently as if to not disturb the mood. Mark realizes there _had_ been a mood, because even Jae and Ken have stopped speaking. The quietness is reserved; the birds sing outside, and the sound of one of the other boys rolling their suitcases seems muted and in the cabin over instead of just a few feet away.

Mark’s gaze droops to Jinyoung’s lips, then to his nose, then he’s looking up at the ceiling, his heart rattled by the tenderness in Jinyoung’s expression. He’s never seen this side of Jinyoung. Relaxed. Comfortable.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“I’m sleeping on the bunk underneath.” 

“Figured.”

Jinyoung stops, catching the air between them, but the tension never pulls. Mark can feel the sun shine between them up until when Jinyoung retreats back to his bunk.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

They’re back in their normal routine by the end of the day.

Mark doesn’t forget the delicacy of the moment from earlier and is very much bothered by it. His heart feels one thing and his head is telling him it’s all messed up and dinner doesn’t sit well in his stomach. The only thing that makes him feel better is practice and weight-training. The point of this retreat is to relax, but they do morning routines to keep in shape; workouts that wake them up and make them feel revitalized.

They’re told to pair off, so Mark makes it over to Jackson in a second. Jackson stares directly into Mark’s eyes, smiling a little, squeezing their hands together when Mark reaches out. Mark doesn’t have to say he’s sorry but does anyway, wanting to pair up with Jackson, hoping that in the middle of grunting, exercising men, they can get a supporting word in about Jackson’s periled love life. But Coach Harvey announces that they must pair off with the opposite team.

Jackson gives Mark’s hand another squeeze before letting go, and Mark follows his gaze, watching Youngjae pair up with Jaebum.

“Then,” Jackson scans the crowd and chooses his victim as Mark gives his hand a very strong squeeze. “I’m pairing up with Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung looks just as alarmed as Mark feels when Jackson approaches. He has no time to react though, because one of the boys from Davis is tapping on Mark’s shoulder. It’s Bambam, and he wants to pair up.

Mark is surprised, awkwardly introduces himself, and can’t help but smile when Bambam does.

 

 

They don’t practice routines, but still end up cooling down by passing the ball around. Mark is stunned by Bambam’s talent even though they’re not even playing for real, just kicking a ball around on the field out back behind the gym, where a few others guys are mulling around and chatting.

Bambam has proven himself on the field in games - Davis must have an amazing scout because their sports teams have been rising through the ranks at a terrifying rate - but playing one on one with Bambam is something else. His long legs look gawky, like he’d trip over himself, but he dribbles the ball like he’s been doing it his whole life. Mark has to be more aggressive with him. He gets so into it that he forgets Jackson is with Jinyoung (which is a recipe for disaster,) and clicks with Bambam. Clicks really well, actually, and he’s having fun, not even embarrassed when he trips over himself and needs a hand up. The last time Mark bonded so quickly with someone was when Jackson wormed his way into Mark’s life. He’s never been the most social. 

They decide to stop running after the ball around noon and Mark and Bambam sit together on the bleachers. Jinyoung and Jackson are still running laps and they seem to work well together. They’re both aggressive players, but Jackson’s making Jinyoung laugh so much that from a distance, it almost looks like they’re flirting. Mark feels dread in his bones. 

“So what’s up with that?” Bambam had been watching him, carefully studying the tense of his partner’s shoulders while watching the other two boys.

Mark doesn’t catch it right away though, turning to glance at him over his shoulder. “With what?”

“You and Jinyoung.”

They’ve become fast friends, but they’re not that close. Not yet. So Mark just shrugs, figuring it’s not really the other guy’s business. If Jinyoung has mentioned anything, then fine. But Mark’s not going to spill his life-long feud to someone he barely knows. And so the awkwardness sets in, feeling much more standoffish than Mark’s original intentions, coming off very cold, making Bambam feel the need to apologize. Mark says it’s alright and really means it, but Bambam doesn’t look convinced.

Youngjae and Jaebum come to sit by their sides after a little bit, the two plopping down in unison. Bambam greets them with high fives and Mark just glances over his shoulder. Maybe it’s because of how aware he is of his best friend’s feelings, but Mark doesn’t look at Jaebum; barely spares him a glance because he finds him annoying. He kind of hates the guy, and his skin prickles when Youngjae leans back towards to him to laugh at something said. He wants to drag Youngjae behind the bleachers and scold him, like, _dude Jackson’s been in love with you for forever, can you_ not _flirt with some new dude you barely know?_

It’s then that Jaebum turns to look at Mark, who’s been glaring like wants him to choke.

Mark clears his throat and looks back at the field, trying to send out a distress signal to his friend who’s still got an arm linked with Jinyoung’s.

It takes a few minutes, but it seems to work, because Jackson’s scanning the field and the bleachers until he finds what he’s looking for - his friends. Mark waves. It feels a little desperate, and Jackson drags Jinyoung up with him immediately.

The air is tense and awkward, courtesy Mark Tuan, but Jackson’s a master at shifting the mood. He sits next to Youngjae with a huge smile, draping an arm around him. Youngjae leans into him with a smile, not caring that they’re both gross and sweaty. Mark watches them, ignoring that Jinyoung sits on the bleacher in front of him, lining his head up with Mark’s knees.

“Hey,” He says, his knuckles dragging along Mark’s shin. It makes him jump, twist his attention down to Jinyoung, who’s smiling a stupidly beautiful smile, the warm sun glistening against his sweaty skin. “Can I talk to you?” Which effectively shuts Mark down.

At some point after the lot of them grouped up on the bleachers, it’d been decided that they were going to get a late lunch together off camp grounds. Jackson’s idea. Bambam wants to invite Yugyeom, too, number 34. Mark catches the end of the conversation, his ears still pounding, only to hear Jaebum say, “Listen, I don’t know how I feel about my teammates dating, but, if you’re gonna crush on him like this -”

Bambam lunges for his team captain with a loud, “Silence! Please!”

Jaebum looks upset at first - a very sexy look on his defined features, Mark’s bothered, he shouldn’t think the enemy of his best friend is attractive, but then is laughing. Bambam looks flustered, apologizing again for the thousandth time. 

“Dude, it’s cool, Mark and I -” Jackson’s face had been red from sun exposure and exhaustion, but he pales so fast it looks like he might pass out, panicked gaze falling onto his teammate. Mark shrugs, it’s cool, especially since Bambam’s been outed and it's clear no one here cares. It’s gotta come out eventually, and then just as Jackson looks like he’s breathing again, Youngjae finishes,

“Yeah, Jackson and Mark are gay, I’m pan, we understand.”

Mark isn’t subtle at all in the way he shoots a pointed look at Jackson. _I told you so._

The rest of the boys converse while Mark avoids looking at Jinyoung because there’s that feeling again - the feeling of his gaze. It makes Mark’s fingers tingle. He only turns back because he has to, because the rest of the group is getting up to go get ready. They’ve decided an hour is enough for them to shower up and get ready to head into town. The boys get up to go, but Jinyoung requests Mark for a minute. Youngjae waggles his eyebrows as the rivals are left alone.

Jinyoung is looking at him differently, and it’s not because he’s learned about Mark’s sexuality. It closely mirrors his expression from before: comfortable. Friendly. Mark’s used to steeled determination and a challenge always looking back at him. It’s been like that for years. And right now he’s searching, keeping their gazes together as if waiting for something. Mark feels his chest tighten and the sun scorch his back through the material of the tank top, as if he hadn’t been assaulted by Keynan this morning reminding his team not to get sunburn.

“Jackson said something on the field.” Jinyoung says finally, and Mark’s heart twists even tighter. “He got a little nervous, and quickly evaded the topic, but he wears his heart on his sleeve. I feel like I know him, even though I really don’t. Does that make any sense?”

It does. Did Jackson say something about Mark’s feelings?

“Jaebummie-hyung…” Jinyoung starts slowly, like he’s not sure where to go with this. Mark is familiar with the term ‘hyung’ because Youngjae has said it before. “He’s not a bad guy. And I’ve noticed how tense Jackson gets everytime he and Youngjae even stand next to each other, but I just… I wanted to know if you’d be okay? With me talking to Jaebummie-hyung about you and Jackson? He can be dense, sometimes.”

Mark’s totally lost. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jinyoung looks just as lost as Mark feels. “You don’t…? You’re not…?”

“I’m not what?”

“You don’t like Jackson…?”

Mark’s mouth falls open and out falls some strange noise he’s never ever made before. “I _what_?”

“Jackson!” Jinyoung’s totally stiff now, his eyes wide. “I thought you liked him? You two are - you’ve always been inseparable! You have some weird telepathic link where you don’t even need to look at each other to know what the other is thinking. You hold hands sometimes? You've known each other for nearly your whole lives?”

This isn’t the first time they’ve been mistaken as a couple. Marks just surprised that Jinyoung has paid so much attention to his relationship with Jackson. “Hold up, we’re not -”

“And then I’ve noticed, over the last few games, that he’s practically tripping over Youngjae. And you’re always glaring at Jaebummie-hyung and I just… I thought that… you were upset. I know the rumors about some fake trail of hearts he’s left behind, so I assumed you’ve heard them, too.”

Still trying to catch up, Mark’s mind is reeling, hands paused awkwardly in the air, “What were you even going to tell him?”

“That if he’s going to make a move on Youngjae he has to be sure it’s something mutually serious, and we don’t want to get in between you guys.”

“I don’t like Jackson. Not like that.” Mark amends, his words whirring out even if his brain isn’t really working. “He’s my best friend, I’ve been trying to help him talk to Jae but he drops his balls every time I even mention him asking Jae out -”

“So you don’t like Jackson.” It’s not a question but a confirmation.

Mark isn’t sure how many times he’s going to have to say it. “No. I don’t like him. Don’t have a crush on him. He likes Youngjae, and I hope they get together.”

Jinyoung’s looking at him again, gaze weighing down. It’s hard to read. “I was so sure.”

“I don’t like him.”

Jinyoung nods and stands, a redness softly blushing the tips of his ears. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to meddle.”

“Nah, it’s all good.” Mark’s heart is still twisted in his chest, beating unrhythmically. “It’s actually pretty cool of you.”

“It must be hard to date while on the team, anyway. I mean - it is hard. Dating a teammate must be nice.” Jinyoung starts the walk back, and Mark’s knees are jelly when he stands to follow. “But, regardless, I’ll still talk to Jaebummie-hyung. Maybe he hasn’t developed feelings yet. He’s a big softie.”

Just last game, Mark had collided with Jaebum. They’d both dove for the ball and honestly, Mark’s surprised his ankle didn’t break. Jaebum’s a real force, aggressive and competitive and not afraid to fuck you up. He always looks like he’s scowling, and the arch of his eyebrows don’t help anything but his bitch face. He stands tall and broad, and his piercing gaze has stopped an opposing player in their tracks. So Mark makes a face when he hears Jinyoung call stone-cold Captain Im Jaebum a softie.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

They take two cars to get into town, and Mark nearly balkes when Jinyoung climbs into the passenger seat of his SUV wearing a huge smile and properly introduces Yugyeom. . Bambam and Yugyeom marvel at the fancy buttons of Dorine’s Audi, while Jackson, Youngjae and Jaebum take Jaebum’s car; a sleek Infiniti.

He follows the black sedan into town with Bambam in control of the music. Jinyoung doesn’t enjoy the rap and pop as much as the others. Mark can’t believe that he’s driving the players of his school’s number one rival team to a bar. If twelve year old him knew that he’d be willingly going to dinner with the one and only Park Jinyoung, he’d surely throw a tantrum. Right now it just feels surreal.

Mark finds himself seated between Bambam and Jinyoung, with Yugyeom on Bambam’s other side. The flirting is relentless between the two, no matter how hard they try to tone it down. How they’re not already dating is the real question. Seated across from them is the other three boys caught in a complicated love triangle. Mark feels so odd with Jinyoung beside him. It’s not a bad odd. Mark sits hunched over the table, fully aware of how Jinyoung sits with his whole body turned towards Mark. He picks at his rice bowl and orders just a Sprite. Mark orders beer and is on his third one before the tamales even arrive.

Jinyoung gets animated over the things he likes; books with authors Mark’s never heard of, a musician Mark’s also never heard of, and his eyes shine and he talks with his hands - his pretty hands, with soft palms and pretty fingers. He sits with his legs open on either side of the bench, and it takes a lot of willpower for Mark to not admire how Jinyoung’s light-wash jeans pull tightly over his thighs. He stabs at his tamale with a spork, and jolts when he feels Jinyoung touch his arm. The sound of the metal utensil on the plate breaks through the restaurant, and Mark flushes hot with embarrassment when Bambam asks if he’s okay. Jinyoung softly touches him again on his arm, apologizing to the patreons that have glanced over at the offensive sound.

Jaebum and Jackson are draping attention on Youngjae between them, but Jackson takes a second to stare at the way Mark reacts when Jinyoung leans in, checking to make sure everything is okay. Mark glances at Jackson as if he can help in some way, before turning to look back at Jinyoung’s handsome face. Mark panics.

“Do you want a bite?” 

Jackson and Youngjae are eyeing the two. They’re not being subtle at all because Jaebum picks up on it. All the sudden attention only increases the panic flooding Mark. He chugs it beer like it’ll help and spoon-feeds a very, very, very, confused looking Jinyoung.

“It’s good.” Jinyoung raises his hand to his mouth as he chews, leaning back. Suddenly he’s too far, and Mark doesn’t know how to save this. The whole table is looking. It feels like the whole room is looking. Everyone watched him feed Jinyoung.

“Have you ever been to a food truck?” Is the best segue Jinyoung offers, smoothing this whole awkward situation by giving Mark something else to think about. Which happens a lot; Jinyoung talks about himself but then switches conversation over. It’s like he’s curious about what Mark has to say, like he wants to know his thoughts, or like he’s trying to make up for lost time. They’ve known each other for ten years now, which is a feat for their age, but they don’t actually know each other. They’ve always played on opposite teams, always gone to different schools, but have never crossed paths outside of that. 

This dinner is them becoming familiar with each other outside of being rivals. Mark’s beginning to think this whole thing is one-sided. 

Soon he’s on his fifth beer and Jackson, who’s preoccupied with Youngjae’s shy flirting and Jaebum’s quick glance at Youngjae’s lips, still manages to shove his foot into Mark’s under the table. Mark’s now got a cloud of distress looming over his head and his best friend is the only one that can sense it. 

The waiter brings over the bill and Bambam - a statistics major, who knew - divides the bill. Mark’s is the priciest with the amount of beers he’s had. And because of the beers, Jinyoung is barring Mark from getting behind the wheel.

“I’m _fine_ -”

“Okay, well I’m even more fine, because I didn’t have anything but soda.” Jinyoung sets his expression and holds his hand out, motioning, _gimmie_ , for the keys. Mark hands them over and climbs into the passenger seat.

He doesn’t realize how much the alcohol had affected him until he’s waking up with Jinyoung gently rubbing at his arm. They’re back at camp and Bambam and Yugyeom are hovering from over Jinyoung’s shoulder, making sure he doesn’t need help bringing Mark in. Jackson’s also watching from Jaebum’s car, where the three star-crossed lovers are sitting.

“‘M fine, don’t need -”

But there’s no use arguing with Jinyoung, who insists to the others he’s got the situation handled, while wrapping an arm around Mark to help him walk in. With one arm slung over Jinyoung’s shoulder, Mark and Jinyoung are pressed side-to-side, and he can feel the stretch of Jinyoung’s shoulders muscles, the firmness of his chest and stomach; can feel the inviting warmth of his body and _wow_ , Mark’s going through a dry-spell and his libido sparks against his will. 

He’s not drunk. He’s buzzed and at a place where he can be honest with himself. 

Tipsy Mark realises just how painfully handsome Jinyoung is, how nice Jinyoung feels pressed into his side, how grounding the melody of Jinyoung’s voice is. Tipsy Mark thinks of that one game earlier in the season when Jinyoung winked and licked his lips.

It’s just like what Youngjae said. Passionate hatred turns into passionate love.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

He hadn’t drunk enough to be hungover, but Mark wakes up feeling dizzy and spirals down into lunchtime.

Youngjae chews on his pulled pork with a disinterested look on his face. Jackson laughs about it, digging his toes into the sand while Mark buries his face in his hands.

“Jinyoung’s really hot.” Mark groans.

“Yeah, he is.” Youngjae shoves more meat and bread in his mouth.

“I hope you choke.” It comes out like it’s truly meant even though Mark really doesn’t mean it, he just doesn’t know how to hold his tongue sometimes. The look that’s cast back at him and the way Jackson snarls, telling him to go fuck himself, makes him feel like dirt, and he apologizes with a tight hug. Jackson’s the one with a crush, but Youngjae’s got both of them wrapped around his finger.

After simmering down and seeing the exchange, Jackson continues on the original topic. “He’s like, super chill. I don’t know why I hated him so much. And you two were mad casual with each other last night. Aside from, y’know, the fact that you looked like you were gonna have a stroke every time he laughed. Or smiled.” 

“Or breathed.” Youngjae finishes. 

“Yeah we were waiting for you like, flop over and convulse. Especially after you feed him. You guys are dramatic like a soap opera.”

Mark stares out over the lake and ignores them, suddenly interested in the line of pine trees on the horizon. They’re by the lake, too many boys crowded on a pier, lining up to jump into the water. Jinyoung and Yugyeom come over to where the other three are sitting, Yugyeom plopping down on the towel and snagging chips from Youngjae’s lap. Jackson watches as his love interest and Bambam’s love interest lean against each other like they hadn't become friends only last night. Yugyeom takes a handful of sour cheddar chips and plays on his phone while Jinyoung stands next to Mark, reaching out to playfully nudge him in the head. Mark clamps his teeth to keep his sad little whine down when Jinyoung’s fingers card through his brown hair. This lifelong enemies thing is one-sided and Mark feels like a hopeless fool.

“How hard is it for the dye to take to your hair? Jaebummie-hyung went blond once and I thought his scalp was going to bleed.” Jinyoung asks, Mark’s light brown strands looking almost golden in the sunlight. He steps away, but Mark doesn’t want him to go, drawing his attention up. He chokes, sputtering lemonade all over the sand. 

All Jinyoung is doing is changing his shirt from a t-shirt to a tank, which is the most skin Mark's ever seen him show, Jinyoung won't even pull his shirt off after games so seeing Jinyoung’s toned stomach, solid abs and thick biceps, makes Mark freak the hell out. He’s seen abs before, but this the guy he likes and wants. Jinyoung shirtless and wet is a heart attack waiting to happen. 

“I had to bleach it first.” Mark says in a rush, getting to his feet and running right into the lake. Maybe to drown his feelings. Or himself. Whatever’s easier.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

Mark avoids Jinyoung as if it’s going to change how he’s feeling.

He stuffs his ears with his earphones when they’re in the cabin, partners up with with other Park (Jaehyung - they don’t really get along but they’re roommates so whatever) and says that he’s not hungry when the boys go back into the city for dinner. Jinyoung looks dejected everytime. It’s not the same look as when he loses a game. this time he looks hurt. This look, the one he wears when Mark shrugs him off for the third day in a row, makes Mark feel like a bad guy. 

Their days are full of training and play. It’s supposed to be carefree, keeping them busy doing nothing, so it’s not that hard to avoid Jinyoung. If they’re in the room together Mark moves outside, or gets a few extra hours of sleep, or actually reads a book. It’s just for three days.

Keynan and Coach Harvey pull him aside on the last day and sit him down on a bench by the lake. Coach Harvey puts a hand on his shoulder while the team Captain reminds them that he’s graduated this semester. 

“I think you can take my place, Tuan.”

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

The soccer season doesn’t start until late summer, but there are small inter-state tournaments to keep the teams in shape. Mark gets a few weeks of reprieve from Jinyoung. Instead of diminishing, his stupid feelings grow. So he buries himself in schoolwork, tackles his duties as team captain head on, spends the rest of his time in the library, and pretends that Jackson and Youngjae’s blossoming romantic relationship doesn’t make him a little jealous. Jackson had gathered the courage to confess his feelings after the retreat. Now they’re “testing this out.”

After about a month of having something undefined, Jackson snaps a photo of him and Youngjae at a carnival, the two of them holding hands and sharing cotton candy. He calls Mark later from Youngjae’s dorm, nearly in tears to tell his best friend, “We’re dating. It’s official. He’s sleeping now, but, shit. Dude, thank you. Thank you for for pushing me. Youngjae makes me so happy. And I think… I make him happy, too.”

Mark congratulates him. Really means it.

But, Mark wants to take Jinyoung and share greasy fair food with him. He wants to go to Jinyoung’s room and have a night in together, and then call his best friend back and tell him that he’s happy, too.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

One of their first games is home and against Davis. Mark has plans to meet Jackson near the student center after his morning class the day of. They get breakfast together almost every day.

Jinyoung and Bambam are there, too. 

At first he feels like fleeing, but his feet lead him over to the three against his brain’s demands. He feels like his heart is going to burst when he sees Jinyoung again standing there with his duffel bag over his shoulder, giving Jackson a tight hug and a firm pat on the back. All Mark wants to do is bound over and throw himself into Jinyoung’s arms.

Jinyoung should be back at the hotel his team stays at, but instead he and Bambam are here to say hello. Mark knows that Jackson the social butterfly got their numbers, but is left awe-struck when he sees Jinyoung when he hadn’t been expecting it. A heads up would've been great. His heart needed time to prepare.

Jinyoung spots him, his smile taking way too long to appear. Mark knows that’s his fault, and is very confused when the first thing Jinyoung says is, “Hey, I didn’t get your number back at the campgrounds.”

Jackson grins as Mark runs on autopilot, inputting his number into his rival-turned-crush’s cell phone. He gets Jinyoung’s number, too, and stomps down the butterflies he gets when Jinyoung leans in for a hug; firm and warm. The friendliness is unexpected. (And later on, he holds his breath when he sees Jinyoung’s on Snapchat. He's never friended someone so fast before.)

“How are you and Youngjae?” Bambam redirects the conversation before Mark’s awkward silence and staring ruins it. “Where’s that carnival at? I want to take Gyeomie.”

As he passes over the information, Jackson’s grinning, excited to share the news. “We’re really good! And the rest of the team has been totally cool about it.” Jackson beams and wraps an arm around Bambam. They've done some bonding since finding out they shared a mutual situation of harbored feelings for teammates. It's worked out well for them since. “His class lets out at 11:15. Let's go pick him up.”

They have twenty minutes, and in that time, Jinyoung works on pulling out as much information about Mark that he can, asking about life and school and romance, mixing it all together in casual catch-up conversation. It’s touching how much he acts like he cares, while Mark thinks of him as a fifteen year-old wanting to knock Jinyoung’s teeth right out of his mouth. Things have really changed.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

Karma has a funny way of coming back, full circle, crashing into Mark’s face and taking him _down_.

Literally. It’s just before halftime, the clock is ticking and Mark’s trying to intercept a pass when the soccer ball smashes into his face. 

He sees stars in the muggy blue sky and feels grass tickle his eardrum. The wind knocks right out of him and suddenly he can’t get enough oxygen. The gasps of the crowd fade into whispers, the whole world shutting out for seconds, and all he can hear is his own wheezing.

“He’s down! Get the medic!” Coach Harvey screams. She’s too close and her hand feels like lead on Mark’s chest. “We need a gurney!”

Mark gasps for air. Chokes. Tastes blood.

“It’s okay, Mark, it’s okay.” Coach Harvey rolls him on his side and Mark sputters on the blood trickling down his face. Everything hurts; it feels like his nerves are throbbing down into his shoulder pads.

“Hey, listen to me. Do you know what your name is?” It’s an unfamiliar voice. Mark coughs out his name. “Do you know where you are? No, wait, don’t close your eyes.”

He hadn’t even realized his eyes were open.

The crowd is silent, murmuring as he sits up, recounts the date, and waves a weak thumbs up at his mother. Everything comes back in pieces; the grass, the blue of his teammates uniforms, the red and black and gold of Davis, the distinction between fingers of the medic, the sound of locks clicking as a gurney is opened at his side.

“No, no,” He can walk. He can totally walk. He can count fingers. “I’m good.”

He hobbles off the field and sits in an ambulance, his thoughts aren’t connecting just yet and he had no answers to his mother’s worrying. His father has more questions for the EMT, and Mark thinks he must be hallucinating when he sees Jinyoung. What a nasty concussion he’s got.

“Mom, he’s fine. Just don’t… look at his face.” Grace, his eldest sister, is rubbing Dorine's back, trying to tell her it’s okay. It doesn’t seem to be working on anyone. Jinyoung looks mortified, all color drained from his face looking like a ghost. Like a weird mirage. His voice is there, too, through the pounding in Mark’s ears.

An EMT is cleaning up his face with what feels like a wet towel, and the pain makes Mark dizzy, his shoulders slumping forward and head lolling back, shying away from the pain. 

Mark can smell Jinyoung, too, somehow recognizing a scent he doesn't realize he knew. He can feel Jinyoung’s chest against his forehead, Jinyoung’s steady hand on his back. This is a very vivid hallucination.

“You’re here.” He whispers, reaching up to grab a fistfull of Davis’s red and gold jersey. It anchors him.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Mark, I didn’t mean...” Mark’s weak and pliant, bendable in Jinyoung’s arms. He leans back when guided to, looking up into Jinyoung’s eyes. “Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“You kicked the ball in my face?”

One of Jinyoung’s hands stay on Mark’s shoulder, the other brushing hair and grass off his face with even more care than the EMT. Mark’s arms lock around Jinyoung’s waist. He’s pretty messed up right now, something’s not quite back in place, and he’s pulling Jinyoung closer.

“You’re really handsome.”

Jinyoung’s hands stop and he stiffens in Mark’s hold. “Um…”

Mark turns to the EMT, who’s stifling a laugh behind her hand. “Can I sleep now?”

“No.” She says, clearing her throat and trying to remain professional. “You need to stay up for a while so we can monitor you. You don’t need to go to the hospital, but you got hit pretty hard.”

“Yeah, he’s -” Jinyoung pulls free from the soccer player’s arms. “How bad is the concussion?”

The EMT shrugs, “It will need to be monitored and we’ll check on him in a few hours to assess it then. He needs to sit out the rest of the game.”

Coach Harvey nods, shooing Jinyoung back to the game. Mark’s depth perception is a little off, but he still grabs at air, reaching for Jinyoung who’s not there anymore. Coach Harvey puts a hand on his shoulder, turning to assure the Tuan’s their son is going to be okay.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

University closes for a three-day weekend the next week and Coach Harvey tells the team to go home and take the time to be with their families. Most of the team don’t have Tuesday classes, so she tells them she’ll see them on Wednesday. On the first night, Jackson and Mark lie on the roof of Jackson’s house, staring up at the stars sprinkling the night sky. They’re far away enough from the city to catch the way the sky twinkles, but only just enough so the brighter ones shine though.

They’ve spent so many nights up on this roof. Jackson came out to Mark up here, they’ve cried over break-ups, asked each other out to Homecoming and Prom. Mark got drunk for the first time here, when they were sixteen and Jackson made hooch because he wanted to be a ‘cool kid.’ It tasted awful and they spent the next day throwing up, but it was worth it.

Now they’re here at twenty and twenty-one, sipping on hard cider that Mark bought at the store, lamenting about their love lives. 

“I can’t believe Youngjae lives in Sacramento.” Jackson whines, burying his face in his hands. “I miss him so much. He’s so far away.”

It’s at weird times like this that Mark thinks of Jinyoung. He doesn’t really know where his thoughts are going, but he’s pulling together pieces and making connections and he’s saying, “Jinyoung lives in LA.”

“Do you know where in LA?” Jackson rolls over, pulling out his phone. “You two should meet up.”

It’s a mini-vacation so Jinyoung’s home, Mark knows that much. They’d mentioned it at the Mexican restaurant during break, and Mark’s held on to that sliver of information like a lifeline. He’d always wondered why Jinyoung chose a school that’s nearly half way across the state while Jackson and Mark stayed local. Jackson and Mark had applied to all the same schools in hopes to play together. With a sudden burning nostalgia, Mark rolls on his side and presses his face into Jackson’s shoulder. Sometimes he can’t believe how long they’ve known each other.

“Thanks for being my best friend.”

Jackson grins and calls him stupid, but flings both arms around Mark, squeezing him tight. It’s too hot to stay cuddled together for long, but they hold each other for a little while, until Jackson’s phone buzzes with a text. He’s pushing Mark up into a sitting position, then pulling him off the roof. Confused, Mark follows, demanding to know what’s happening. 

“Go get your man.” 

“What?” Mark loosely grips his car keys when Jackson shoves them in his hand. “How?”

“I got his address.”

“ _What_?””

“We’ve been texting. He’s worried about you.” Jackson gestures to the bruise splattered across Mark’s cheek. “And for some reason, you’re too much of a little bitch to give him a call. He lives like, twenty minutes from here. Do it now. Before he goes back to campus and is like, six hours away.”

Mark stands in the driveway of Jackson’s house, heart pounding in his throat while Jackson plugs the address into his cell phone.

“In the meantime, I’m going to call Youngjae. And tell him I love him.”

Mark closes his hand around Jackson’s. “You haven’t done that yet?”

All the bravado drops from Jackson’s expression and stance. “No… we’ve only been dating three months. We’ve been official for barely, like, two. Is it too soon?” He breathes in, gripping his best friend’s hand. “It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“Nah,” Personally, Mark thinks it is. But their relationship is different from any he’d have. “Tell Jae you love him.”

Jackson inhales, his chest lifting and pulling his shirt, and Mark inhales with him. Slowly, breathing in the nighttime air. Then Jackson leans forward and plants a kiss on Mark’s cheek. 

“You’ll always be my best friend.”

Mark hugs him tight. He knows Jackson’s on edge, ready to take a huge leap in his relationship, and feels inspired by it. “Yeah.”

“Can you just say it?”

“I don’t have to say it for you to know it.”

“Just fuckin’ say we’re gonna be best friends forever.” Jackson latches on and won’t let Mark go until he’s being hugged too tightly, and manages to say it while gasping for air.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

Jinyoung lives in a tight neighborhood, the houses all with flat, slanted roofs and brick driveways. Mark pulls up to the curb and makes the call before he chickens out. It’s so weird hearing Jinyoung’s voice over the phone. It’s even weirder how his heart swells up at the sight of Jinyoung hopping down the front steps of his house, It feels like he’s been transported back into his high school self, giddy and anxious over a first date with a first crush.

“It’s past midnight.” Jinyoung accuses as he slides into the passenger seat. Even in the dark his eyes twinkle.

“Yeah.” Is all Mark says, shifting the car into gear.

Jinyoung sinks back into the seat and buckles up. “What are we doing?”

“Late night ice cream?”

“Oh.” Mark can’t get himself to look at Jinyoung. He can hear the teasing tone clear enough. It’s making him even more nervous. “That’s cute.”

The car ride stretches on with Mark fiddling with the radio and Jinyoung watching him, a smile perched on his handsome face, like he can read all the nonsense going on in Mark’s chest right now. Mark’s made fun of Jackson for pining over Youngjae for so long and now he understands what the hesitance was for. Mark _likes_ Jinyoung. He doesn’t just want any relationship, he wants a relationship with Jinyoung, and there’s a thin line there he doesn’t know when he crossed. He wants something serious. And this is a huge step. And he doesn’t know when he started wanting to destroy Jinyoung, to wanting to kiss him. And hold his hand. And be domestic. This is one of the scariest things he’s ever done.

“What’s it like being Captain?”

Mark’s been flicking through the radio stations without even listening to the songs. “It was great until the second game when I got my face smashed in.”

“I’m sorry.” That flirting tone is gone. “Does it still hurt?”

“No. No, it’s totally fine. I’m fine. Shit happens.”

“Occupational hazard.”

“Yeah.” Mark pulls into the parking lot of a Froyo place, finding parking near the back. It’s packed with teens hanging out and smells like teen angst and teen hormones. The girl behind the counter doesn’t bother to mask her expression of shock when she sees the bruise still splattered across Mark’s face. He ducks his head and pays for both of their ice cream. Jinyoung is smiling again as he takes his cup of froyo and fruit, staring down at it like it’s the source of his happiness.

When they’re back out in the car, Jinyoung turns on the light and angles Mark’s face so he can get a better look. “It looks a lot better but it’s still…”

“Ugly.”

Jinyoung frowns and drops his hands from Mark’s chin. “I’m really sorry.”

He doesn’t know how many more times he’s going to have to tell Jinyoung it’s alright. They drive towards the beach with the windows open and find a spot where some people loiter, but isn’t too crowded. The air is salty and thick at this time, wafting into the car.

“What was wrong?” Jinyoung says as he stares out at the water beyond the windshield, past the sand. “During the retreat? What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything.” Mark’s froyo is mostly melted now. He swirls the different flavors together and mashes the oreo crumbs. Aggravation is an easy state for him to reach, and usually that’s when he dives head first into things, but he’s feeling nervous and smitten and doesn’t know how to navigate it. “I just… I couldn’t pull my head out of my own ass.”

“We were getting along so well, and then all of a sudden you were ignoring me. It really bothered me. I thought I said something to upset you.” Jinyoung dives right into the heart of the problem and takes lead of the conversation. Mark appreciates it.

“So why’d you act so chill last week? When we saw each other?”

“Oh,” Jinyoung twists so he’s sitting sideways in the seat, turning his whole body to face the brunet. It makes Mark’s palms sweaty every time he does that. “I didn’t want things to be weird in front of the others. And then Jackson said you couldn’t remember things for a few hours after you got hit, so I didn’t want to get into it in front of the others…”

“I was confused for a day or two.” Mark wants to be honest but also doesn’t want to give Jinyoung another reason to feel remorse. “I couldn’t even remember Jackson the last part of the day, but I’m fine now. I’m totally healed. Except for, y’know,” He gestures for his face. “The bruise. But, listen, that’s not why I asked you out here. I wanted to apologize. For being an asshole. And pushing you away.”

Jinyoung sets his empty froyo cup aside. “Why did you do that?”

This is it. The moment that Mark’s been gearing up all his courage for. “Because… I really like you.”

Plain and simple. Good. 

But the look that crosses Jinyoung’s face isn’t elation, instead he looks confused. Mark thinks maybe he sees disappointment, so he backtracks. Like a dumbass. 

“Like you as in, like, not _like_ like you.”

Oh, God, is he twelve?

“I’ve always hated your guts, and we were getting along, and it was just… real fuckin’ weird.”

“Haven’t we always been friends?” Jinyoung waits. Mark’s ears burn. The swelling in his face has gone down, but the bruise is still there, purple and green across his cheek. How anyone looks at him without cringing is beyond him. Mark jumps every time he looks in a mirror. But Jinyoung stays with his eyes trained on him, not giving him anywhere to run to.

“I only realized that you’re cool, like, during the retreat. Maybe a little before that? I dunno.”

Jinyoung looks genuinely conflicted. Mark wants to drown himself.

Years and years of hatred has Mark feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. He lies in bed at night staring at the ceiling in the dark, thinking about how all of this has been one-sided and epically ridiculous. There’s no basis for feelings of hatred. Jinyoung’s always been a good opponent, and now that they’re friends, Mark can’t find anything to hate. 

“I kind of figured, but didn’t want to believe it. Why did you hate me?”

“Because I’m a fuckin’ moron. You were the cool new kid that showed up out of nowhere and you were a _threat_.” Mark might be panicking. Words don’t normally flood out of his mouth.

There’s a moment wherein Jinyoung looks mortified, like there’s a possibility this whole friendship is going to end, but then his face relaxes and he smiles that stupidly cute smile. The one where his eyes crinkle and Mark just wants to grab him by his sweet cheeks and plant kisses all over his face. 

“I admired you, a lot. When I first moved to America in the fourth grade, the kids made fun of my accent, and my good grades, and what I ate for lunch...” 

Mark’s stomach feels worse than his face did when he got hit with a soccer ball.

“I was young and had a lot of anger, and had no idea what to do with it. So my parents signed me up for soccer. And I was really good. Until we played your school and I got to play against you. We never really talked, but I felt challenged to get better and play better.” Looks like Jinyoung’s been mature his whole life. “It didn’t matter that my English was awful, because it felt like we had our own language on the field. And I’ve always appreciated you.”

“I’m such… I’m such a fuckin’...” Mark’s brain stalls out. “I’m such an asshole. I’m so sorry.”

Jinyoung shakes his head and moves closer. Like, really close. He touches Mark’s thigh with his fingers, leaning over the center console. 

“So you like me?”

“Yeah,”

“Just as a friend?”

“Yes.” Mark’s never felt so anxious before. “No. No, not as just a friend.”

It’s like the salt in the air has crusted over Mark’s skin. He’s feeling tight and immobile. Everything he could possibly feel, he feels. Apprehension, anxiousness, guilt; all balls up and battles it out, flowing through his body like a flood. He zeros in on Jinyoung’s expression; the small, unplucked hairs at the ends of his eyebrows, the slope of his nose, the faint crinkles in the sides of his eyes from when he smiles a lot. He can smell Jinyoung’s cologne, too, a gentle scent that’s not overpowering. Mark leans closer, shoulders strained from how tense he is, and Jinyoung’s eyes flicker down. Then back up. Then down again to Mark’s lips where they stay for a while, focusing in on what Jinyoung wants.

His aggressive nature plays through his actions on the field, and his abrasiveness in this situation has Mark’s heart jamming up into his throat and his blood traveling down south way faster than he can control it.

Jinyoung’s gaze flashes back up to Mark’s and the arousal there is strong like the waves on the shore, and they surge forward at the same time.

They kiss like how they play on the field, both trying to get control of the situation until Jinyoung leans over, hand coming up to grip Mark’s shoulder, and it’s then that Mark realizes their size difference. Jinyoung’s a little taller, his shoulders a little wider, his waist not as thin, but Mark feels suddenly tiny with just Jinyoung’s hand on his arm. He feels daring as Jinyoung licks into his mouth, and he grips the front of Jinyoung’s crew-neck to regain some sort of control and pull Jinyoung close even though there’s no space in the front seat of the car. Their kisses are long and pleading for more. Mark wants Jinyoung on top of him, wants to feel his warm skin and the slope of his thighs and wants Jinyoung to box him in, caging him.

Just as Mark tugs harder, his action coming off more desperate than anything, he can’t help but whine when Jinyoung captures his bottom lip in between pretty white teeth. And then Jinyoung leans forward, slotting their lips together and he dips his head in a way that presses his nose right into the bruise on Mark’s face, and Mark whips away with such a force that he knocks his head against the car door.

“Shit,” Jinyoung breathes, the sexual tension blowing out the car like a strong gust of wind. Mark’s never heard Jinyoung curse and blearily files it away that he can make Jinyoung cuss, and the word sounds so good coming out of his slick, red lips. “I’m so sorry -”

The pain fades as fast as it had come. “No, it’s fine.” He can’t believe this is his life coming full circle to taunt him. He’s feeling dizzy. “Christ, I just want to kiss you.”

“Is that all you want?” Jinyoung laughs at that, leaning forward to take Mark’s hand in his. He squeezes, and then pulls Mark’s hand to his lips, kissing knuckles. “Because I want to take you out to dinner.”

Mark’s heart seizures. “That’s so cheesy -”

“I really want to kiss you more, too.” For a split second, Jinyoung looks devious. Mark’s dying to find out more about this side of the soccer player, but then the look is gone within seconds, concern coming back through his gaze. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Can we go sit on the sand?”

It’s much less crowded now, there’s a girl playing frisbee with her dog a little ways over, near where the lights of the near-by shopping strip are brighter, and it’s peaceful. The waves don’t follow a pattern but the sound washes over Mark and comforts his worries. This is fine; Jinyoung likes him back. They’re going to date. It’s been a long time coming.

A kiss to his shoulder breaks the reverie, and he looks over to see Jinyoung leaning his chin against his shoulder, _that_ look in his eyes again. The one that thrills Mark.

Jinyoung presses another kiss to his shoulder. “Does it hurt when I kiss here?” He whispers against the stretch of skin and Mark shivers, shaking his head. His hands find their way into Jinyoung’s hair, eyes slipping closed as kisses are peppered over his neck and shoulder, anywhere Jinyoung can reach while sitting by his side, their toes in the sand, shoes and socks discarded to the side. Jinyoung pulls Mark down with a smile and a quiet flow of laughter. They make plans for dates between kisses, ignoring that in only a few days’ time they’ll be six hours away from each other, busy with school and soccer, and will only play each other again if their teams make it far enough in the season. For now, Mark tangles his fingers in Jinyoung’s dark hair and lies against the sand, moaning softly as Jinyoung’s lips skitter against his skin, Jiyoung’s tongue tracing down his neck and collarbones. Mark’s heart races and his breathing becomes harder as he dips his head to the side, letting Jinyoung throw one thigh between his, lips trailing down his jawline and further down his neck. They’re quiet enough not to be heard over the Pacific Ocean.

Jinyoung trails up to Mark’s lips, kisses getting faster, harder, more demanding, and Mark can feel the way Jinyoung’s breathing increases; feeling puffs of air on wet marks left behind on his salty skin. Mark’s eyes flutter open, one hand around the back of Jinyoung’s neck and the other still in his hair. He tugs gently, Jinyoung groans, the hand on Mark’s hip sliding testingly under his tank, brushing against hipbones, and dips down to meet his lips.

But with the angle, Jinyoung’s pressing his nose into Mark’s cheek and he yelps. Jinyoung is sitting in the stand an arm’s length away before Mark even gets to regain his bearings.

His skin tingles and his blood pumps hotly through his veins. He can’t even be embarrassed about the fact that in this position, it’s clear that he’d been getting hard. He hears Jinyoung mumble, “That’s it, I’m not kissing you anymore,” and Mark puts both his hands over his face, careful not to apply pressure,

“It’s real fuckin’ funny how I wasted _so many_ birthday wishes on wishing I’d cave your face in with the ball, and we ended up with you kicking a ball in _my_ face.”

Jinyoung’s brows furrow together. He draws his pretty red lips in under his teeth. “Come again?”

Mark stares at him, slowly piecing together what he just said. His skin tingles where Jinyoung’s mouth had just been and he sits up quickly, mind rushing to get back into place, and all he can respond with is, “Oh.”

“You really… wished for that?”

Hopefully the bruise covers how red his face is becoming. “Uh, yeah. Maybe. Kind of.” Jinyoung’s eyes widen, and then he laughs, the sound carrying through the night. Mark’s still feeling like wind got knocked out of him, so he lies there as the world spins on and the universe laughs at him. 

“I think…” Jinyoung’s between roars of laughter. “This is karma.” 

As great as it is that he finds this so amusing instead of it being a deal breaker, Mark’s feeling a little kicked right now (Pun not intended.) He probably could laugh, but the universe and Jinyoung have done enough of that for him. So instead he just sits there. Waiting. For Jinyoung’s laughter to fade out. 

Even after it does, all Jinyoung does is curl up at Mark’s side, squeezing both arms around his middle. Yeah, Mark could get used to this. He hooks an arm under Jinyoung’s head and they lie there for a little while, staring up at the sky.

“Do you want to watch the sun rise? We have a few hours.”

Well this is grossly romantic for a first date. Mark doesn’t say no, though. 

“I’m surprised no one’s called the cops on us yet.”

Jinyoung lifts his head, looking over at the apartments that line the thin road only a few feet away. “It’s a bunch of old people that live there. They’re all sleeping. We’re fine.”

“Will we be fine a month from now?” Mark bites his lip, willing the rest of his words down.

“What do you mean?” 

There’s so much to think about - Mark doesn’t know if he can handle long distance, first off. Second, they’re on opposite teams. Third, they just became friends, how can they go from not being friends to friends to boyfriends?

“We’ll be fine.” Jinyoung rests his head on Mark’s chest, crossing their ankles and hugging him tighter. “We’ll text each other and call. And flights are cheap. And I’ll be home for breaks. It’s only more year… We’re only two semesters away from graduating, and we have a whole summer in between. As long as we’re honest with each other, we’ll be fine.”

Mark wonders when they became so insync that his thoughts are understood even when unspoken.

“So many couples fall apart when they go to college, though…”

Jinyoung tangles his fingers with Mark’s. “Yeah. But we’re not eighteen year old boys anymore. I want a serious relationship. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to give this a try?”

Mark blinks up at the sky. “Yes.”

He rolls over and pins Jinyoung down to crush him in a hug. He falls asleep to Jinyoung’s fingers threading through his hair and a hand on his lower back.

He wakes to the sunlight peeking over the horizon, Jinyoung leaning against his shoulder and holding his hand. They watch the day begin, feeling as passionate as the purples and oranges that paint the sky.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------**

“Don’t think that I’m gonna go easy on you because you’re my boyfriend.”

Jinyoung rolls over, throwing the blankets up to cover Mark with them. “Please. I know all your weaknesses. This whole relationship has been a ruse to finally beat you.”

“Are you admitting I’m the better soccer player?” Mark kicks the covers off, scrambling to slide across the bed, wrapping both arms around his boyfriend. It’s the night before the first Santa Monica versus Davis game of the season, but Mark had snuck up to Jinyoung’s hotel room early for some time for just the two of them. This long distance thing is exhausting, but Mark finds himself living for these moments when they get to see each other again, face-to-face. Mark likes to cradle his face until Jinyoung gets shy, ducking behind his hand to hide his grin and blush, and then Mark moves in for a kiss. Jinyoung’s only been able to go home one weekend a month since they started dating, and this is the first month where they’ll see each other twice.

Mark moves so he’s hovering half-over Jinyoung. He pulls Mark down for a kiss, long and full of tongue. “Ah, what is it about your arrogant personality that made me fall for you?”

Mark won’t call it love. Not yet. It’s only been four months since that night on the beach. This is their first game against each other and they haven’t seen each other in almost three weeks -

But his heart flutters when they kiss, when he runs his hands up Jinyoung’s bare sides, when Jinyoung calls him after an exam, and cheers Mark on his studies. He longs for Jinyoung when they’re apart.

“I missed you.” He mumbles against Jinyoung’s lips. 

“I missed you, too, baby.”

Mark shivers, pulling away before things spiral out of control. They find time to balance time inside and outside the bedroom when they do meet up, but this time had been a little different. Davis arrived in Santa Monica a little after three, and Jinyoung instigated the whole thing with a single text: _the Marriott #607. I’m kicking Jaebum out. Please come asap. I really miss you._ Mark had come right over.

The Coaches don’t know that Mark’s here. He really shouldn’t be. Coach Harvey had seemed surprised when she heard about the team Captain’s relationship with their rival team’s midfielder, but said nothing. The rest of the team had accepted it easily; saying things like _well that makes sense._ But Mark still doesn’t want to see like there’s some sort of favoritism happening on the field. He wants a fair game.

They get out of bed and kiss each other as they get dressed. Jinyoung rubs at a hickey left on his chest, and Mark kisses it before he pulls a shirt on. Their friends should be coming by any minute now.

The rest of the gang is out in the hallway, and Jaebum sends them sharp looks. “I hope you both are ready to play tomorrow.”

“Yeah, our plan was to tire Jinyoung out before the game.” Jackson teases, and Youngjae throws his head back to laugh. Jackson’s like a dam, and Mark cuts him off before he goes and elaborates with a vulgar joke about how Mark’s going to tire Jinyoung out, exactly;

“We’ll be fine.”

“So no weird kissy faces across the field?” Bambam’s hand is clasped loosely with Yugyeom’s, their hands swinging together as the group loads onto the elevator.

“No.” The couple says in unison, their passion for soccer momentarily overpowering their affection for each other.

Jaebum grins at that, “Should we go for drinks after we cream you guys?”

“Try again.” Jackson huffs, leading Youngjae out of the elevator first.

“We beat you guys three games in a row.” Jaebum counters.

“Yeah, and then you got Bambam and Yugyeom and lost.” Mark’s feeling fiery, but also not trying to start any real shit. He’s still secretly terrified of Jaebum.

Bambam gapes while Yugyeom musters up a speedy comeback. “You guys lost that Leo guy. He carried your whole team. Not my fault you can’t play.”

Mark is left stunned and Youngjae laughs like it isn’t his team being dissed. Jinyoung hides a smile while Bambam cheers his boyfriend’s quick wit.

“We have Mark as Captain.” Jackson wraps both arms around Youngjae to get him to shut up. “So we’ve got a whole bunch of new tricks up our sleeves.”

Jinyoung slides his hand into Mark’s, and Mark gives it a good squeeze.

 

Later, after he’s kissed Jinyoung good night and the group has split their separate ways, as Mark’s on his way home, he calls Jackson.

“You look so happy.” Jackson comments first.

Mark smiles to himself. “I think I love him.”

“So then tell him.”

“No way. Maybe. After the game. If we win.”

Jackson’s laughter fills the car. “I guess some things aren’t going to change.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is so late bb


End file.
